


The Legend of Good Mages

by ContreParry



Series: A gift of Knowledge and Love [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Flashbacks, Gen, Healing, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Pining, Pre-Anders/Fenris, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 18:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5100614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContreParry/pseuds/ContreParry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders tells Fenris a story of seemingly unrequited love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Legend of Good Mages

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Chaucer's "The Legend of Good Women," another poem that makes use of the literary device of the dream vision.

The difficult part about unrequited lust, Anders thought glumly as he ground elfroot into a fine paste with a stone pestle, was that he couldn't really tell anyone about it. It was bad enough that the object of his affections loathed the sight of him, but Anders knew he couldn't bear the idea of his friends looking at him with pity in their eyes. Hawke would mother him, Merrill would coo and mother him, Aveline would take him on patrol with her and mother him, and Isabela would try to get him drunk and have pity sex with him. Then Varric might write and publish it while Sebastian would pray for all their souls. All in all, his friends would just make the pining worse, so he kept his feelings to himself. He prayed to the Maker that Fenris would never find out. He did not want to know what he would do when confronted with Anders and his feelings.  


Anders could say he didn't know when his attraction for the mage-hating elf started, but Justice would admonish him for telling lies. Wicked falsehoods, we will not spread untruths, **we are Justice and we will not lie-**  


“Not right now, Justice.” Anders muttered, smashing the stem of elfroot against stone. “Not. Right. Now.”  


Mage-hating elf. Fenris. Handsome, aloof, free to go where he pleases Fenris, with eyes that told a story of suffering, loss, and a will of iron that pushed him forward. He was a man who suffered. He was beaten, torn apart, put back together, but he survived it. His name might mean “wolf,” but Anders always thought he was more like a cat. He was so graceful, all sleek muscle and agility in a fight. Fenris snuck in and out of places whenever he wanted, and left whenever it suited him. He feigned disinterest, but his eyes- Maker, Anders could drown in those eyes, so green they hurt, and so full of emotion that he just wanted to cradle the elf and let him know he deserved so much more than life had given him. But Anders understood cats very well, and Fenris was not interested in cuddles, especially from him. It would be a fast death, Anders thought wryly. Death by getting his heart ripped out of his chest. Messy, though. Far too much blood, and that would be unsanitary, wouldn't it?  


**“You will desist in these thoughts. They are unproductive.” Justice commanded.**  


“Which ones? The ones about dying or the ones about Fenris?” Anders snarked back, setting the elfroot paste aside and pulled out a jar of dried blood lotus seeds.  


**“Both.”**  


“Pick one or the other, we share my body and I want to be able to think about things without you monitoring every thought.” Anders needed to have something for himself, even if only in his mind. Justice grumbled, heavy in the back of his mind, but he let Anders continue his morose thoughts centered around Fenris and left him in peace.  


Anders first saw Fenris when he walked down those stairs in the Alienage after a long, agonizing fight with a group of slavers. Hawke, Varric, Aveline, and himself had been there, and Anders was quite pleased to bash a few heads when they were slavers and would sell anyone out for coin. Justice rode in the back of his head, lending strength and encouragement because slavery was wrong, a sin, unjust, and he would stand against it as they stood against all injustices. When the dust settled, Fenris, his bare feet soft on stone and dirt like a cat, emerged and tore out a man's still beating heart before addressing Hawke with a voice that was made to be listened to. Anders was so mesmerized by the sound that he hadn't registered a word the elf said except for his name. Fenris. He might have swooned but that would have been embarrassing.  


Then he met Fenris's eyes and all thoughts of swooning were torn apart under the calculating gaze of those eyes. People could say that luminous, beautiful eyes were a trait among the elves, but Anders had been around many, many elves. None of them had eyes like Fenris. Anders saw those eyes and he was reminded of home, of green grass in a meadow, of towering pine trees, of elfroot freshly harvested, of everything that had ever been good in his life. As soon as this mess was over, Anders resolved during the walk to Hightown, he would introduce himself to Fenris. He would learn more about this man who had eyes that were so beautiful and so terribly sad.  


Justice disapproved, of course, but Anders hushed him by reminding him that the man seemed to be a skilled warrior, killed slavers, and would make a good ally. Anders was only intrigued by his skill and mysterious history, and wasn't it a good idea to make useful friends? That shut Justice up. Anders spent the walk from the Alienage to Hightown thinking of all the ways he could demonstrate his friendliness to a handsome, if slightly prickly, elf with pretty green eyes.  


Those plans fell apart the moment Fenris learned that not only was Anders an apostate mage, but an abomination. Anders felt lucky if the elf only sneered at him during their encounters after he learned about Justice. Anders tried to explain, he really did, but either his explanations were lacking or Fenris wasn't interested in hearing them, though it was probably a combination of both. Fenris avoided him and spat insults if he came too close, and Anders contented himself to watching. Anders had plenty of opportunities to look at Fenris since he joined their merry band of misfits. Hawke had need of Fenris's blade, and when there were fights there was need for a healer. Anders found that his watching went relatively unnoticed by others and was completely ignored by Fenris so long as he kept his mouth shut and kept away.  
Strictly for his safety, of course. Fenris seemed inclined to shove his fist in his chest at the slightest provocation.  


Justice did not approve of any of this.  


Anders sighed deeply and set the lotus seeds on his worktable before grabbing the small burner and lighting it with a practiced gesture. No more thinking of Fenris, he admonished himself. He set a small pot on the flame, filled it with water from the jug, and waited for it to boil. Do not think of the careful way he walks, each step soft but certain, as if he expects an attack at any moment but is determined to face his foes. Do not think of his face, of the smile that Anders desperately wanted to see spread across Fenris's lips and into his lonely, wistful looking eyes. Don't think about kissing him, about holding him, don't even imagine what it'd be like to hold his hand because he'd only take your heart and crush it- no. Return to your work, Anders, Fenris despises you and he has every reason to, **do not allow for this distraction.**  


Boil water, then add dried seeds. Wait, stirring occasionally, until soft, mash into paste. Mix small amounts of paste with elfroot, let sit for three hours before using a powdered distillation crystal. If brewed properly, the mixture would serve as an antidote to most poisons. Anders was quite skilled at his medicinal herbs, so it would work. And considering the company he kept, they needed plenty of antidotes. Why just last week Fenris got stabbed with a poisoned dagger- **I said he was a distraction, Anders. Why do you waste your time on him?**  


But Justice's disapproval did nothing to prevent Anders from thinking about Fenris. Anders knew he couldn't lie to himself, not really. His unrequited lust for Fenris was slowly edging into unrequited admiration. Andraste's tits, Anders knew it was full blown admiration by now. Fenris was just... he was so... Anders couldn't help but admire him. Fenris was once a slave. Everything he was, every trace of his identity, was ripped from himself. Fenris was fashioned, molded to be perfectly obedient. But still, still Fenris had the spirit, the strength, the resolve to be more than a puppet. He had the strength to be his own man, to break the ties that bound him and make his own life. And now Fenris wanted to face the monsters that enslaved him, and Anders only wished to have half that strength so that he too could face off against his past instead of running away all the time.  


Of course, it didn't help that his lust gave the demons in the Fade even more ammunition to toss at him when he came across them. Encounters were rare, but the demons he ran into the most now were lust demons, all of them wearing Fenris's shape and purring out provocative statements in that voice that made Anders's knees weak. He was grateful that demons always got something wrong, and in his case it was the eyes. No demon could truly replicate the fire and passion in Fenris's eyes, and Anders knew those mistakes saved his very soul. He wanted it all to be real, and every off-color shade and dulled emotion reminded Anders that his encounters were the work of demons. Then he'd wake from his wanderings in the Fade with Justice ranting in his head and a hard-on in his smalls. Or worse, the mess those hard-ons left behind. It made him want to scream in frustration- it wasn't enough for the man to torment him by day, but now he couldn't even enjoy himself while he slept? Stupid, stupid Fenris- **I HAVE TOLD YOU, HE IS A DISTRACTION! ENOUGH!**  


“Anders? Anders, for Maker's sake you better be in there!” There was frantic pounding on the clinic door, and a frantic voice, a woman's voice, pierced through the wood. “Shit, Merrill, sorry, can you hold him up?”  


Anders hurried to the door and flung it open, ushering the four people in his doorway inside. Technically three people carrying a third. Anders didn't even register who they were carrying. He barked out orders, instinctively reaching for his stores of healing potions, salves, bandages, and lyrium. Always the lyrium with Hawke and the injuries they got working with her.  


“On the cot, the one with the sheets on the far right, it's clean. Tell me what happened.” Anders ordered as he set his supplies next to the cot. A cold jolt of what could only be called fear shot through his spine as he realized who lay bloody and barely breathing in his ramshackle clinic.  


“It was another group of slavers, with a mage leader.” Hawke stated solemnly, eyes full of worry and a little bit of fear. “Fenris recognized him, I think. The leader definitely did, told him he was fetching that bounty on his head-”  


“He charged in without even thinking.” Varric added, his face uncharacteristically grim. “Rushed towards the pointy ends of all their swords to rip the guy apart.”  


“Fenris just kept running.” Merrill added, her voice small and eyes wide in terror. “He didn't even notice all of his wounds-” A tiny sobbing sound broke out of her. “He just wouldn't stop, it was like he had gone mad!”  


“Hawke, I have tea in the back. Third jar to the right on the fourth shelf up. Prepare some for Merrill and calm her down. Varric, help me get this armor off.” Anders remained controlled, Justice lending his aid as they pulled the chest plate and leather from Fenris's prone body, each piece sticky with blood. Fenris was soon pried out of his armor and most of his clothing, and Anders winced at the extensive damage. At least he was still breathing, his heart strong even as he bled out.  


“There's water in the back, boil it. Clean rags are in the basket over there.” Anders gestured behind him, already examining Fenris and the rather gaping wounds in his chest and stomach. Punctured lung, broken ribs, torn muscles, his skin on his feet was shredded- Anders set to work.  


“Come on, you stubborn bastard.” Anders muttered as he felt tissue and muscle re-form under his hands, bones re-knitting into their proper shapes. “You always fight, so keep fighting now you bastard, bastard-”  


“Here, Blondie. Water.” Varric set a pot of heated water on the side table. Anders didn't bother to look up, too busy keeping Fenris alive and stable to think of anything else.  


“Good. Clean some of the blood off him.” Anders ordered, downing a lyrium potion before returning his attention to Fenris's wounds. His heartbeat was still strong, his breathing steady if a little shallow. “Turn his head to the side. He has fluid in his lungs.”  


**“He will not die.”** Justice promised Anders as Fenris hacked up blood-tinged spittle on the scratchy linen sheets.  


“No, he won't.” Anders agreed, questing for the more serious internal injuries- and was relieved to find that everything was salvageable. He re-stitched the lining of Fenris's lungs with magic before re-sealing his chest and stomach wounds and moving on to the less life-threatening injuries. He would not die, he would not die, Anders would not let Fenris die. So long as he could heal, he wouldn't let Fenris die. Anders was relieved to find that Justice agreed despite his reservations about Fenris's presence in his life. Anders could feel Justice's resolve, and it gave him the support he needed to continue his work.

It was hours later when it was finally done. Fenris slid into a deep, healing sleep, his most serious injuries healed by magic, the minor ones bound and stitched with cloth and thread and medicine. Anders went through three lyrium potions and was completely tapped out of mana. His hands couldn't stop shaking, a sure sign of a lyrium overdose. Merrill quietly emerged from his back room and handed him a mug of tea, a little over-steeped but still warm. He drank deeply, thanked Merrill, and let her retreat back to Hawke. He looked over his patient, and marveled that the angry furrow between Fenris's brows smoothed over when he wasn't conscious. Fenris looked younger, softer, more fragile when he slept, and fragile and soft were words that simply weren't used to describe Fenris.  


“How's he doing, Blondie?” Varric asked, his voice husky. He looked tired. They were all probably exhausted, Anders realized. No one left the clinic since they brought Fenris in. Hawke went back and forth between his room in the back and the clinic proper, ferrying supplies as Anders needed them. Merrill kept boiling water and started cleaning Fenris's armor once she calmed down. Varric stayed at Anders's side and acted as an extra set of hands. Anders didn't even know if they were injured, he was so focused on putting Fenris back together.  


“The healing spells were strange on him, but they worked.” Anders remarked, his voice cracking slightly. “It's probably the lyrium.” All that lyrium changed how his spells worked while it coursed in Fenris's body. Anders wondered if it hurt Fenris to be around magic. Even while healing him from the horrible trauma multiple sword blades inflicted on his body, Anders felt Fenris's body reacting to his healing spells in unusual ways. It worked slower, sluggish, the magic following the lyrium veins rather than Anders's will, and he had to fight to get the spells to work the way they were supposed to.  


“You can all go home now.” Anders added, standing up from his bench. “I'll let you know when he's awake.”  


“You're not looking so good yourself, Anders.” Hawke emerged from the back, an arm casually slung around Merrill. “Get some sleep, okay? I'll make sure everyone gets home safely.”  


“Thanks, Hawke.” Anders mumbled, shuffling over to the door. “Good night.” He watched everyone leave and barred the door behind him before stumbling into the cot next to Fenris. Anders shifted his body around until he was facing Fenris. The candlelight turned his face into harsh angles and sharp lines, but they were quickly blurring into lumpy shapes as Anders struggled to keep awake. He just had to stay up, at least until Fenris woke up. Just another minute of rest before he got up again, just another minute-

Anders woke slowly in segments. First he was aware of sound, the faint sound of small feet padding softly over hard packed dirt, a slight dry noise that was barely audible. The sound stopped suddenly, someone gasped, and then-  


“The healer is sleeping, and there is little to steal.” A low voice, Fenris's voice, rumbled softly in the other cot. “You have a message from Hawke?”  


“N-no, ser.” A voice whimpered, shaky and frightened. Anders was about to roll over and scold Fenris for scaring a child, but they continued to speak. “M-my mother, she's un-unwell. She sa-says the baby is- but I can't- the midwife's not back and no one will-” The child gasped, the shaky draw of breath almost like a held back sob. Fenris seemed to sigh, and the other cot creaked. Anders heard two feet hit the ground with a light but firm thump.  


“Go outside. I will wake the healer.” Light footsteps hurried out of the clinic, and Fenris's footfalls approached Anders's cot.  


“Get up, mage.” Fenris muttered. “There's a need for your skills.”  


“How did you-” Anders started to ask, rolling out of the cot, but he thought better of his question. Fenris was a master reader of body language, a skill Anders envied. He could tell if someone was ill or in pain, but to be able to postulate thoughts and intentions with the accuracy Fenris did was something beyond Anders's grasp. “Never mind. Alienage, right?”  


“How did you-” Fenris asked, but Anders (and Justice with him) had focused on the task at hand. He anticipated it would be a long day in the Alienage.  


“Their midwife has been sick recently, a cough. Harmless to adults but potentially fatal for babies.” Anders explained, hurriedly pulling on boots and coat before rushing to his pack and stuffing it with clean rags, equipment, medicine, and lyrium. Always with the lyrium. “They only have the one, and no one else in this Maker damned city will help the elves, fucking pricks.” Anders ordered, and Fenris's already grim expression darkened considerably. Anders found it frustrating that even when angry Fenris was handsome. His eyes were just so... no. He had work to do, and Fenris should not be up and about.  


“Stay here, Fenris. You're still recovering from almost dying.” Anders ordered, checking the pouches of his knapsack to ensure his tools were secure.  


“No.” Fenris's monosyllabic response carried more weight than a speech of protest, like he packed all of his extensive and deep feelings into that single word. Perhaps he had.  


“You need to rest.” Anders sounded firm, but he knew he was already wavering. He couldn't force someone to remain in a place against their will, it was unjust, wrong, he couldn't-  


“I will not leave you alone with a defenseless woman and child.” Fenris stated, easily swinging his sword back onto his back before retrieving his own travel gear. “I am well enough.”  


“Are you- are you really saying that I'd hurt a patient?” Anders couldn't believe what he was hearing, but directed most of his anger into keeping a now enraged Justice in check.  


“I am saying I will accompany you and ensure that you keep control of yourself.” Fenris replied, voice cold. “Perhaps you can prove magic is a force for good, like you always claim.”  
Each word cut like a knife, sharp and the intent clear. Even as the hurt from Fenris's words echoed in his mind, Anders couldn't help but be awe-struck by Fenris's supreme control over his body. Even heavily injured and bandaged, Fenris's movements were steady and sure.  


“No, I- you know what? Fine.” Anders said, just as cutting as Fenris. “But if you collapse during the trip I will point and laugh.” He shook his head and moved out of the room, Fenris following and monitoring his every step as Anders greeted the young elf at his door, a bony child with knobby knees and large gray eyes who started at every noise and seemed half in awe, half terrified of the slinking silent shadow that was Fenris. He led them through the morning crowd of Darktown residents to the quieter Alienage, his pale blond hair gleaming in the half-light.  


The tow-headed elven boy was Seren. Anders remembered him from when he broke his wrist in a “fall” near the docks. Anders and Justice suspected it was a fight with some of the refugee boys from Ferelden, but Seren hadn't breathed a word to him. Anders desperately tried to remember everything he knew about Seren and his family. The boy was twelve summers at the most, with a younger sister, perhaps of one year, recently named Lana. Their mother, Vani, took in laundry and mending. Anders suspected she worked at The Rose when money was tight, which was often enough for the unfortunate in Kirkwall.  
Anders didn't know if Vani had a husband. He never asked.  


Seren lead then to a tiny mud-brick house in the Alienage, a little-ways away from Merrill's home, and invited them in. It was a two-roomed affair, better than most places in the Alienage. The living space and kitchen was the first room, and the beds were in the second, where Anders immediately went to. Fenris found a corner to lurk in while Anders approached the low cot where Seren's mother lay. A small girl-child waddled over to Seren and babbled happily, waving her arms and gurgling. Anders recognized her as Lana, who was much smaller the last time he saw her in his clinic. The boy picked her up and held her close to his chest, rocking her and saying soothing words into her smooth dark hair that was so much like her mother's.  


“Healer.” The elven woman on the cot gave him a strained smile, which Anders returned.“It really is no trouble, you needn't come here, I could have walked-”  


“Vani, I am not about to let a woman in labor walk across Darktown to give birth.” Anders soothed the woman as he settled down on the floor and began to remove his herbs and potions from his pack. “When did the contractions start?”  


“At dawn.” Vani confirmed, her dark hair mussed and plastered to her forehead with sweat. “I had thought they were the babe's kicks, they are active in the morning, but then-”  


“I see. How far apart?” Anders remained calm to soothe the woman, but she still seemed frantic. Anders had to calm her down, and quickly, if the birth was to go smoothly.  


“It's been more and more recent, healer, but I can- oh, I should fix something for you and your friend, I can-” Vani attempted to right herself in her bed, but a particularly hard contraction wracked her body and she settled back against the worn sheets with a small cry.  


“There is no need.” It was Fenris who spoke, his voice filling the room. “What needs to be done?” He turned his gaze to Anders, none of the derision that normally colored his interactions present now. Anders's heart leapt at the realization that Fenris was letting him prove his abilities and value as a mage, as a healer, and wanted to help.  


“I need hot water.” Anders began to pull his tools out of his knapsack, touching the metal implements with fire magic and following up with a quick blast of cold to ensure their cleanliness. “But I need you to stay here, Fenris. I might need an extra pair of hands.” He would definitely need an extra pair of hands, Anders noted grimly as he used his magic to check on Vani. If something went wrong, Anders would need someone- Fenris- to play assistant.  


“I'll boil the water.” Seren volunteered, taking his sister with him as they retreated to the front room. Anders appreciated Seren's willingness to help. It would make what was to come much easier. Fenris quietly padded up to the cot and loomed over Anders and his patient.  


“What else needs to be done?” Anders, who was too busy helping Vani sit up in her cot to bother looking at Fenris, wondered if it disgusted Fenris to call him a healer instead of a mage. In fact, he marveled that Fenris bothered to monitor his words at all, but then he remembered where Fenris's loyalties lay. He might despise Anders, but Anders knew Fenris treasured Hawke's friendship above all else. He would never turn against her- and because of that unshakable loyalty, Fenris wouldn't turn on Anders.  


Anders wished Fenris regarded him with even a fraction of the affection Fenris had for Hawke, but even then Anders knew it was asking for too much. He returned to the problem at hand.  


“Help her up, she needs to walk around the room.” Anders finally managed to look at Fenris, who was clearly skeptical of Anders and his medical decisions. “She's too tense, this will help ease her body.” When Fenris still looked doubtful Anders added “It's also better than lying back worrying about the birth. Think of it as a distraction. You do it often enough when training with a sword, right? Mentally dealing with pain?”  


“Very well.” Fenris removed his gauntlets and set them aside where he lay his sword before returning to Vani and looping her arm over his shoulders. “Come.”  


“Thank you, but you needn't bother-” She protested weakly, but Fenris wouldn't hear it.  


“It is no trouble.” Fenris sounded so gentle that Anders felt momentarily jealous. Fenris could be gentle with a stranger, but couldn't spare a kind word to a companion? Anders sternly told himself to cut out his descent into self pity. He had a patient who needed him now. He went to Vani's other side and helped her hobble around the room alongside Fenris. They had to take breaks occasionally as Vani leaned against them during her contractions. Eventually they put Vani back in her cot and Anders helped her sit upright. She was more relaxed now, and Seren came back in with a pot full of hot water. He thanked the boy and told him to wait outside with his sister.  


“More contractions?” Anders asked sympathetically when Vani winced.  


“Seren and Lana were worse.” She explained, her voice strained. “At least, from what I remember. I can bear this.”  


“The first birth is usually the hardest.” Anders said, scanning over Vani once more. He was pleased to find that everything was progressing as it should. He had spread his magic too thin over the past few weeks, and healing Fenris yesterday had taken a lot more out of him than usual. But Vani's labor required little magic, only the mundane healing knowledge that Anders was more than willing and able to use.  


“Breathe. In through the nose, out the mouth.” Fenris spoke up from near the bedside. Anders wondered where Fenris learned that breathing technique that he so often encouraged women going through labor to use. Maybe it was a warrior thing? “Is there anyone I can fetch for you? Anyone who should know of the birth?”  


“Like some Hightowner wants another bastard child to ignore.” Vani huffed, her voice strained and upset. “It won't be of any use and I won't have my children hurt by it.”  


“They should be caring for you.” Fenris nearly growled the words, and Anders was surprised by the anger and protectiveness surging behind those green, green eyes. Since when did Fenris care so much about other elves? “The babe is their blood.”  


“Not in his eyes, they aren't. Though I appreciate the senti- shi-!” Vani bit off the curse with a worried glance towards the other room. Anders hushed her and glared up at Fenris. He was causing the patient stress, he would stop or they would get rid of him- no, Anders shook his head and pushed Justice away. Fenris ignored Anders, as usual.  


“Continue breathing.” Fenris said firmly, settling next to Vani and offering her his hand. “We will take care of you.” Vani grasped Fenris's hand and held it tightly, but she followed his directions and breathed.  


“Vani, push.” Anders instructed her. “Deep breaths, it will be over soon.” Anders checked, and breathed a sigh of relief. The baby was crowning. A few more moments and it would be a clean birth. Vani cried out again, loudly, and suddenly there was an echoing little cry, a sound like a mewling kitten, and there was the baby, wriggling and red faced and quite irritated by their sudden entrance into the world.  


Anders quickly cut the cord and tied it off. He returned his attention to Vani and was relieved to find that there was minimal damage to heal. Minor tearing and some bleeding, but easily fixed and not life threatening. He took care of it straight away, dipping into his low reserves of mana and getting some support from a rather content Justice.  


**“A good birth.”** Justice intoned, sounding as happy as he ever could sound. **“We have done good work here.”**  


It wasn't as if they had given birth, Anders thought flippantly, but he was still pleased. They had helped, they had done good. Even if it was just one life, Anders knew he had done the right thing. His magic was not a curse. He was not a burden.  


He dipped a rag into the hot water and cleaned the blood and viscera off the baby's nose, mouth, and body, noting that Vani had another girl in her family. Her small cries grew into a healthy wail, and Anders handed the child to her mother. She smiled up at him and held the child to her breast, encouraging her to latch as Anders checked over her vitals. It wasn't until Anders got rid of the afterbirth and the babe and mother were clean and resting that Anders realized Fenris had left the room.  


“I must leave soon and return to my other patients.” Anders informed Vani. “But your daughter is healthy. If there are problems-”  


“I'll come to see you, Healer.” Vani said gratefully, clinging to her child. “You... we won't forget this. You or your friend. If you ever need anything-”  


“Vani, it's my job to heal.” Anders replied. “You focus on taking care of your family and getting some rest.” Vani smiled gratefully before returning her attention to her youngest daughter, and Anders quickly exited to the other room to give Vani some quiet time to bond with her child. He stopped at the entrance to observe the scene in the other room.  


Sunlight streamed in through the tiny kitchen window onto a bright patch on the floor. Fenris sat at the low bench in front of the heavy wooden kitchen table. Seren anxiously paced in front of the hearth. Lana was perched on top of the table's surface, giggling and slapping her hands on the rough wood. Someone had clumsily braided the girl's hair into lopsided pigtails.  


“Is mother... is she-” Seren asked Fenris shakily, trying to be brave. Anders waited quietly at the doorway. The boy looked over Fenris's shoulder as he- was he feeding Lana slices of apple? Anders remained quiet as he edged into the room, fascinated by this strange side of Fenris he had never seen before.  


“She and your sibling are well and being seen to.” Fenris replied, feeding another apple slice to Lana. 

“Where is your father? ”  


“He's dead.” Seren replied softly. “Lana and the baby, their fathers don't... they aren't around.”  


“You have no family? Friends in the Alienage?” Fenris asked, shifting on the bench to face the boy. Anders observed Fenris's profile, outlined by the morning sunlight, and marveled at how the elf carried himself like nobility even when surrounded by poverty.  


“Not really. There's some people at The Rose, mother's friends. We can manage.” Seren shrugged, and Lana babbled happily, banging her chubby fists on the wooden table. “We're left alone, most of the time. We're fine.”  


“If you ever need help, you must ask for it.” Fenris said firmly, pulling another apple from his own knapsack and peeling the skin with a hunting knife in one long, continuous motion. Anders wondered where he picked up that trick, until he remembered that Fenris was very, very skilled with a knife. “The healer is a great fool, but he will assist you and your family.” Fenris's voice sounded hard, as if he would force Anders to assist this family should he refuse.  


“Even though he's shem? And a mage?” Seren asked, skepticism coloring his voice. It hurt to not be trusted, but Anders understood the boy's attitude. Life was not easy for Darktown residents, and it was worse for those in the Alienage. “I only went because he won't charge, but I don't trust him.”  


“He is a highly unusual human.” Fenris stated, slicing the apple in quick, precise motions before setting it down in a wooden bowl. Lana reached in and chewed on a small piece. “And an unusual mage. You are not wrong to be cautious. But...” Fenris's words trailed off as he stared at what seemed to be nothing.  


“Ser?” Seren pressed when the silence went on for too long.  


“He is skilled at his craft.” Fenris said, his hand lightly resting over the place where Anders magically stitched together his once gaping stomach wound. “But if you doubt him, you know where to find me.”  


“At the docks, The Hanged Man, or the mansion in Hightown.” Seren recited. “I know.”  


“Good.” Fenris noticed Anders waiting at the edge of the doorway, and stood up from the table, retreating back to the entrance of the house.  


“Your mother will be fine, and your sister too.” Anders told Seren, who suddenly looked nervous and almost ashamed. “I left some medicine for fever just in case your mother falls ill. It needs to be steeped like a tea for five minutes, and drunk while hot.” Anders instructed, his voice firm.  


“Healer?” Seren twisted his hands nervously, and Anders knew what would come next. The hesitant, awkward offers of payment for services Anders would perform because he was a decent person and wasn't about to let someone suffer- don't worry, Justice, we won't take from someone who has nothing, Anders reassured the spirit who was already clamoring in his head.  


“It's only a precaution. But if there are any other problems, my clinic is open to all those in need.” Anders smiled at the boy with knobby knees and too-old eyes. “Healers use their gifts to heal. It's what we do.”  


“Thank you, Healer.” Seren murmured shyly after a moment of shocked silence, and Anders left  
the little mud shack in the Alienage feeling much better than he thought he would. What surprised him, though, was Fenris's insistence on walking back to the clinic with him. He slunk like a shadow, like a cat, a presence that lingered and kept quiet but was obviously there. Anders was a bit unnerved by Fenris's stare. Even without looking he could feel it boring into the back of his skull.  


**“You think entirely too much of the elf, Anders.”** Justice grumbled, but did not rant about his disapproval. Anders appreciated Justice's sudden tact. Anders waited until Fenris reached his side to address the man as they went down one of Darktown's many narrow, empty streets and walkways.  


“Thank you for your help, Fenris.” Anders said. “It was useful to have an extra pair of hands.”  


“You performed the difficult part.” Fenris replied, easily navigating the slippery stairs without a hitch. Fenris's lean form and graceful movements made Anders feel like a clumsy giant.  


“And you kept Vani calm and took care of the children.” Anders countered, but he couldn't resist teasing Fenris, just a little bit, because his behavior around the children was simply too sweet to not mention. “You were a good nursemaid, weren't you? Something you picked up in Tevinter?”  


“Do not mock me, mage.” Fenris growled out before roughly brushing past Anders, and Anders knew he misspoke.  


“Andraste's tits. I'm not! It's not like that!” Anders protested, quickly overtaking Fenris with long strides that covered two of the steep steps at a time. “I didn't mean to offend-”  


“Do you know what happens to pregnant slaves in Tevinter?” Fenris turned on Anders then, green eyes flashing with enough fire to burn a nation to the ground. “Their children are ripped from their arms, taken before they are even named. We are left with memories, nothing more.” His voice was low and grave, and it was utterly sinful that a voice could carry so much hurt and rage. “That is why I accompanied you today, mage.”  


“I would not kidnap a child, Fenris.” Anders whispered, horrified by yet another thing he didn't know about Tevinter. Even Justice was shocked into silence. “I know Tevinter is terrible, but-”  


“You know nothing.” Fenris spat out. “Go to your clinic. Play martyr. But know that I am watching you. While I breathe you will not bring harm to an innocent.” He left then, stomping up the stairs towards Hightown.  


“Fenris! I just-” Anders called out, but Fenris had turned the corner and was gone. “Shit. Fucking nug shit!”  


**“His resolve is admirable.”**  


“Shut it, Justice.” Anders grumbled, but he couldn't deny the fluttering feeling in his stomach, like he had eaten an entire container full of butterflies. Fenris battled his hurts and injuries just to ensure that a child would be delivered safely and a family would stay together. He took care of children and drove off threats. He fed a toddler apples and promised protection to the weak. It hurt that Fenris viewed him as the greatest threat to those in need. It was a hurt that cut to his core, but Anders found himself once again admiring Fenris's strength, his devotion, the tenderness that lay beneath that cold and bitter exterior. He only wished that he could get Fenris to see that he was not a magister, not just a mage, but a man. A man with desires and feelings and love in his heart- oh. Oh no.  


Anders stumbled down the rest of the steps and rushed into his clinic, barring the door and panting from the exertion and panic. Oh no. No, no no no no, this wasn't supposed to happen, he wasn't supposed to, it was too dangerous to love anyone! It was a game, an amusement, a dalliance, a waste of time and energy, **be productive, Anders.**  


“Yes, you're right, Justice.” Anders breathed out, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. “He hates me, nothing will come of it. It will fade.”  


Green eyes flashing bright in amusement, in anger, in a thousand emotions that Anders could not name. The faint hint of a pleased smile on the curve of his lips as he gave Lana a slice from a fresh apple at that kitchen table. Those dark brows scrunched together as he frowned when Vani admitted that the bastard who got her pregnant would not be interested in his offspring. The solemn way he instructed Seren to find him when he needed help. Fenris liked to pretend he was cold and heartless but he wasn't. It was an act, and Anders knew he was completely fucked. All he could do was pretend that nothing was wrong and hope that Fenris never caught on to this development. Lustful pining was something Anders could cope with, but love? Oh no, that was an entirely new kettle of fish that Anders was not about to let come to light. Anders welcomed the relief that came when he received a messenger from Hawke requesting he accompany her on a trip up Sundermount in a few days. Anything to get out of this city, anything to get away from his emotional problems. Anything to get away from Fenris for a few days. Anything.

“And that's when it all started, really.” Anders finished, his voice slightly hoarse after his tale. The sky outside Fenris's mansion had turned dark, the air cool and biting. Fenris was quiet, and Anders stared into the fire. Anders could almost believe that Fenris was asleep, he was so still.  


“I still don't understand it.” Fenris finally said, breaking the silence. “I accused you of attempted kidnapping. I was terrible to you. And then, with the nightmares...” Fenris's words dragged off into nothing.  


“You defended people who needed defending.” Anders corrected. “People who were abandoned and needed help. I understood why, even if it hurt a bit.” Anders frowned, turning his eyes back to Fenris's upturned face. “And you know I don't blame you for your nightmares, right? I never have.” Anders knew the havoc demons caused, and he knew Fenris carried his guilt like the chains that he wore as a slave. He was so convinced of his own wrongness that he condemned himself automatically.  


“I was wrong about you.” Fenris looked up at him, eyes vulnerable, his head tilted back as Anders leaned over his face. “About everything.”  


“Perhaps.” Anders smoothed Fenris's hair under his palm. “Or perhaps not. By coming with me and meeting the family, you got Seren a job, didn't you? Good came out of it, in the end.”  


“Seren runs messages for Aveline and her Guard.” Fenris stated. “It was not my doing.”  


“It is a job that pays money. It keeps Vani from working at The Rose.” Anders continued. “Lana is healthy, and the babe is as well, all because Vani can spend more time working as a tailor with the extra money Seren brings in. That's not nothing.”  


“They did it themselves.” Fenris insisted. “I had nothing to do with it.”  


“You're determined to see yourself as a bad man.” Anders sighed and planted a kiss on Fenris's forehead before leaning back onto his hands. “But you're not. You have a good heart, Fenris. I knew that the moment you turned those big green puppy-eyes on us the first time we met.”  


“You are entirely obsessed with my eyes. You and Isabela both.” Fenris replied haughtily, and Anders laughed, sitting up and tugging Fenris up into his arms to cuddle him. Fenris pretended to make a bit of a fuss at Anders's affectionate attentions, but Anders knew he delighted in being held. He tended to nestle his face into the juncture of Anders's shoulder and rest there.  


“I'm obsessed with every bit of you, Fenris. You have a wonderful mind and a good heart and a gorgeous body. It's hard to believe you want to be with me.” Anders remarked.  


“Hmmm.” Fenris sighed, melting to Anders's side. “You are too complimentary. I am flattered all the same.”  


“Good.” Anders replied, dropping small kisses over Fenris's face. “I'll keep telling you how smart and sweet and pretty you are until you're sick of it.”  


“And if I don't? What if I continue to want to hear your kind words?” Fenris asked, smiling in a way that made his eyes gleam in happiness. Anders adored that look on Fenris. Fenris rarely smiled, and Anders treasured the moments where he could draw out those tiny smirks and genuine grins.  


“I'll just keep on doing it, then.” Anders said flippantly, which made Fenris laugh, a low sound in his throat that made Anders want to say or do something to draw it out again.  


“You are too kind.” Fenris replied, rolling over and sitting next to Anders. “But I appreciate it.” Fenris drew Anders towards him, wrapping one muscled arm around Anders's shoulders. Anders curled up next to Fenris's body and sighed happily. Fenris was a warm and comforting weight by his side, reliable and strong. A good thing for a less than saintly mage, to have someone to hold and be held by when the nights were cold and dark, but Anders never claimed to be completely selfless. If Fenris thought he was worthy of his affections, Anders would let him be affectionate.  


“You're a good man, Fenris.” Anders mumbled into Fenris's shoulder, and he felt Fenris press his lips against the top of his head. “And someday I'll convince you of it.” The two curled up together and watched the fire die down to embers and Fenris pulled Anders into his bed. They curled up together under blankets, and Fenris held Anders's hand long after he fell asleep. Anders faced Fenris and smiled. Fenris looked so peaceful and young as he slept.  


“Someday you'll see how wonderful you are.” Anders whispered. “And I'll be there to help you see it. I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, giving kudos, commenting, and bookmarking this series and this work! I appreciate it!


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